Haunted By Him

Chapter Twenty-Four

The party isn’t too overwhelming, luckily for Bucky. He’s wearing the suit Natalia bought him and Steve’s dragging him around the apartment and introducing him to more and more people whose faces are just barely familiar and after about an hour of this, Bucky breaks away to take a breather. He snatches a plate of chips off the table in the kitchen and slinks to his bedroom and swears to himself that he’ll only be out for a minute.

He sits on the edge of his bed and smooths his hair back with hands still perpetually gloved and before he can do anything else, a hand from behind is cupped around his mouth and several more tighten around his torso and arms and he tries to scream, but he can’t.

He panics. The Winter Soldier thrashes and kicks as the hands pull him backwards. He can’t get any sort of leverage, he can’t claw any of the hands off of himself and before he knows it, dark figures with powerful arms are throwing a black sack over his head and carrying him out his bedroom window.

“STEVE!!” The Soldier screams, but his cries are too muffled by the hands and the sounds of the party behind his closed door. “HELP!”

He can’t see, but he thinks he’s being thrown into a van. He hears the doors shut and he tears the bag off his face and throws himself at the walls of the car, but it does nothing.

It’s Hydra. He’s known that since they touched him, grabbed him, silenced him. They have him again. They’ve caught him.

The Winter Soldier is brought to a base after hours of driving and he feels sick. His throat is hoarse from screaming. He keeps imagining all the horrible things they’ll do to him, all the ways they’ll think up to punish him for running, and his stomach heaves.

When the car finally stops, he’s dragged kicking and screaming out of the car. He doesn’t know where he is, but the walls are grey cement and he feels that distinct chill that tells him he might be underground.

It’s like I’ve been buried alive, he thinks to himself as they drag him down the halls. I’m already six feet under, I might as well be dead.

He’s tied to a wall in a dark room and he’s shaking so hard he can hardly fight anymore. He’s got tears running down his face and he feels sweat bead on his skin. They strip his nice suit away before they lock the shackles, ripping off his jacket and his shirt and making him sit there in the cold half naked. They laugh to each other maliciously as they leave him there alone. He can feel his arm starting to match the temperature around him and touching his own skin sends goosebumps through his body. He tries to tell himself to breathe.

Then, in front of him, a light turns on and the Winter Soldier looks up, blinking. When his eyes adjust he sees Natalia at the other side of the room and he gasps. She’s crumpled on the floor and the green dress he stole for her is torn and ruined and covered in dirt. Her arms and feet are tied up like his are, but she’s slumping. He notices blood and bruises on her bare skin.

“Natalia,” he breathes hoarsely. Then, louder. “Natalia. Natalia!! Natalia!!” Her head raises weakly and she looks at him with eyes glazed.

“James,” she mutters.

“It’s me, it’s James,” the Winter Soldier cries. “Natalia, look at me, stay with me, Natalia!” She’s already beginning to slump again and he throws himself as hard as he can towards her, which doesn’t get him very far because the shackles bite into his wrist and he’s yanked to a stop. “Natalia, Natalia,” he pleads.

A door on the other side of the room opens and the Winter Soldier screams. Hydra agents come through it and one is pushing a cart adorned with a variety of weapons. A chill runs through him. He recognizes this.